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Forever Captain:
“His Part to Play”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~

Summary: “Steve Rogers has retired to the 1940s to build a new life with Peggy. In leaving behind the mantle of Captain America, at last he’s got a measure of peace. Still, Steve will never stop feeling the responsibility to step up as a hero— except he's not sure how much power his actions have at this point in the timeline. Somehow he must reconcile his new life and identity with the responsibility and burden of being a hero out of time.”

Previous chapters:
1. Lost Time
2. Building
3. Reaching
4. Bonds
5. Ghost
6. Stag Night
7. Wingmen
8. Mr. Carter
9. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
10. Suiting Up
11. On Maneuvers
12. Waiting
13. The World’s Oldest Battle
14. A Pinch of Salt
15. Elizabeth
16. Maria
17. Swinging for the Fences
18. The Marrying Kind

Chapter summary: Steve attends Howard and Maria's wedding, and reflects on how even Captain America can't save everyone.
~~~

19. The Bargain

The ceremony would be small and private, to Steve's relief. Howard and Maria's engagement had been reported on in every society column the Allied world over, and Steve knew if the wedding was some extravagant public display packed with celebrity guests, it wouldn't be safe for him to attend.

Howard eyed him with a wry smile when he'd delivered the news. "You look surprised."

"I am," he admitted. "I was expecting a blowout. You know, elephants, acrobats, belly dancers eating fire, or something."

Howard guffawed. "That's for the reception. But we'll actually tie the knot in front of just the important folks." He elbowed Steve playfully in the ribs. "I figured you wouldn't want to end up in the pictures for the tabloids. But I wouldn't want to walk to the noose without my pal watching my back."

"Thanks, Howard," Steve said, touched that his friend cared so much to have him present.

"Ain't nothing." Howard smirked and winked at him. "You're going to be sorry you missed it, though. Elephants and acrobats are just the beginning. Nat King Cole is going to play."

He had to admit, he was tempted. Nat King Cole had been on his list. But his wiser instincts had to prevail. "Sorry I gotta abandon you."

"Eh, don't worry about it. There's always the bachelor party."

"Oh, no," he groaned. "What do you got planned for that?"

"Aw, you know. Just your average bacchanal. I got to have a little fun before I get locked up for the rest of my life."

"And you think you're going to have more fun with me there?"

"Hey, somebody's got to keep me honest. You seem like the right stick-in-the-mud for the job."

"Oh, in that case," he deadpanned. "I was born to rain on your parade. Easiest nickel I ever made."

Howard roared and slapped his knee. "I don't know, pal. You ever had to shoulder-check a dame on a mission? Because that's what it might come to."

He made a big show of cracking his knuckles. "Bring them on, boss. With what you're spending on that wedding, you aren't going to want Maria to call it off at the last minute."

Howard flapped a hand at him. "Eh, what's she got to worry about? When I got Captain America to save me."

Steve looked away so Howard wouldn't see his face fall. Captain America could save everyone— except, of course, when he couldn't. "You should probably tell her, you know. Who I really am, I mean."

Howard eyed him. "Thought you wanted to keep a lid on that as much as possible."

Steve sighed. "I do. But… I don't want you keeping things from your wife because of me."

He considered that, and conceded. "Fair enough, Cap. But I'll be honest… she might know already."

Steve's eyes widened, alarmed. "What? How?"

"Not because I told her, if that's what you're afraid of. But she's no dumb cookie, that gal. By now, I bet she's figured it out on her own."

He knew he shouldn't brood on it. But he found it inexplicably nagging at him, anytime he had occasion to speak to her. Captain America meant one thing to most folks— and it was the one thing he wasn't sure he could be.

Maria wasn't exactly the type to throw herself open to people just because they were connected to her man. But she did love to entertain, and the woman could throw a world-class dinner or cocktail party when the mood struck her. The next occasion she invited them, they congratulated her on the engagement in between moments of her holding court, dressed to the nines and with a rock that could, indeed, have served as small ordinance on her finger.

"Thank you," she said, eyes slipping sidelong in demure amusement. "Of course you must think I'm crazy."

Peggy burst out with a surprised laugh. "Why ever would we think that?"

Maria smirked. "Because I'm anchoring myself to a man like Howard."

Peggy winced and attempted to be diplomatic. "Well— not crazy! He was just— a different man before he met you."

Maria's lip turned up ever so slightly. "I'll let you in on a secret, Agent Carter— you aren't the first person to tell me that. Some in less gracious terms. And, well… I may not be an engineering genius like some people. But I do have a pair of eyes."

"Oh, dear," Peggy murmured. "Does that mean… you have worries?"

"Not at all," Maria said. "Because if he did, he won't be able to resist telling Grant. And Grant will be obligated to tell me."

She smiled at him then, with a kind of secret in it, and in that moment Steve could not doubt that she knew. "After all, we all know you're the decent sort."

Steve dipped his head, almost in acceptance. "You got a deal." It was more than a fair trade, considering— her keeping his secret, and his doing what bit he could to keep Howard honest. A small thing, given the weight of everything that might lay ahead about which he could do nothing.

The invitation came specifying a dress code of morning attire, something Steve was not familiar with. "What does that mean?" he asked Jarvis. "Not tuxedos, right?"

"No, tuxedos are for evenings. It's the kind of formalwear worn before five o'clock."

Steve stared. "You can't wear a tuxedo before five?"

"Apparently not; they decided you need an entirely different suit for that."

Steve used to need newspapers to make his shoes fit, and in the twenty-first century he saw people wear sweatpants to church; the idea of special suits for morning and night was beyond him. "And Howard's gone in for that? Okay, then. Rich people, huh?"

Jarvis chuckled. "It was Miss Carbonell's idea, as a matter of fact. But, yes— rich people, indeed." He tilted his head, considering. "You could wear your dress uniform, if you prefer."

Steve thought about it, but he would likely be the only one, and ultimately he did not want to draw that attention to himself. Thankfully Jarvis knew the ins and outs, and helped him secure the necessary gray, swallow-tailed three-piece that would fit his rarefied proportions.

"There," Jarvis declared as he tied the ascot around Steve's neck. "Like a proper gentleman with the leisure to change clothes three times a day."

Steve looked at himself in the mirror over the other man's shoulder, feeling faintly ridiculous. He took in the high collar, the twin rows of buttons on the waistcoat. "I look like I should be dying of consumption in a Victorian melodrama."

"Not with those shoulders, you don't." Jarvis's precise gaze swept over him, and the man grinned. "They're not exactly made for gentlemen with your build. But somehow, I think you'll do."

He sighed as if long-suffering, but frankly Steve was glad for the excuse not to have to wear black. The last times he'd worn a black suit, it had all been to funerals.

True to Howard's word, the ceremony was family and close friends only— no business partners, dignitaries, or celebrities he wanted to impress —just enough for Steve to be able to recede into the crowd. All the guests seemed so fancy, but with everyone in morning dress, he supposed even folks like him might have been mistaken for it. Ana Jarvis, looking winsome in a pale yellow gown and white gloves, had kindly saved seats for them near the back of the house, mindful of their wish to stay out of the way.

As was right and proper, Edwin Jarvis preceded Howard up the aisle as his best man, escorting Maria's sister Lisette. He looked about a thousand times more natural in the morning coat than Steve did, though Howard himself made a surprisingly decent showing when he entered. Even now, the man couldn't help but ham it up, winking and mugging at the crowd as he processed. But when he arrived at the altar and turned, all the bombast was slapped out of him by the appearance of his bride. Steve saw it come over him, the moment when Howard looked across the room at the woman he loved— the woman whose life, when Bucky came for them at the end, Howard would beg for and offer his own in trade. This was the first undeniable step in the march toward destiny.

It all felt so huge in that instant Steve thought it might swallow him. But with effort he marshaled himself, reaching out to seize onto Peggy's hand. He could not lose himself dwelling on what may or may not be to come. That was the bargain he'd accepted to live this life. He could only watch as his old friend, and the parents of his old friend, swore until death did they part, and when at last Howard lifted Maria's veil to kiss her, he clapped and cheered through a throat closed with emotion and eyes blurring with tears.

Peggy leaned in from beside him. "Are you all right?"

He breathed deep, steadying himself. "Yeah. I always cry at weddings."

She chuffed softly. "You know what I mean."

He swallowed, and squeezed her hand, unable to describe it. But even so, she seemed to understand. "Not to worry. We can slip away soon. No one will mind."

He nodded. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the party?" he asked. "You can go without me, you know. I bet Angie would appreciate the company."

Peggy rolled her eyes and laughed. "There's sure to be a producer or two there for her to sweet talk. She doesn't need me cramping her style." She nudged him with her elbow. "I'll get our coats. You go say goodbye to the bride."

Steve waited his turn behind a line of well wishers before at last he could approach Maria. She extended her satin-gloved hands to him, glinting with her wedding band alongside her enormous diamond.

"Forgive us for begging off," he said. "We're not really much for big parties."

"Not at all. It's a refreshing change from most of Howard's friends. At least he has two of you."

Steve looked at her very seriously. "I do plan to keep an eye on him, you know."

"I know," she murmured. "And he cares enough what you think of him that it might just keep him in line."

Steve's throat tightened— both at what it meant for Howard, and for the memory it stirred. Suddenly he could hear Pepper's voice, in the back of his mind from the funeral. "It wouldn't have mattered so much to him if you hadn't mattered so much." And Maria was there looking up at him, half-grinning in a manner that was achingly familiar.

"If you think he's worth the trouble, well…" She tipped her head to one side, the twelve-carat studs Howard gave her gleaming in her ears. "I can believe that he's a decent man after all."

Steve squeezed her hands, as if he could press his meaning into them. Captain America could not promise to save Howard, or Maria herself for that matter. But Grant Carter— Steve Rogers —could promise to be their friend.

A vague recollection of some etiquette rule occurred to and then eluded him. "I'm not supposed to say congratulations, am I? Not to a bride?"

She smiled, exquisitely amused. "That's right. Well done. It's best wishes."

"Got it." He leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Best wishes, then. Mrs. Stark."

"She's going to need them," Howard cut in, appearing at Maria's shoulder as Steve drew back. "Now she's in for it. Sucker."

"I better not be," she sniffed. "Or you know who you'll answer to."

"Yeah," Steve smiled. "And I wouldn't like to cross her either."

Howard laughed. "Well. Ain't like I'm a braver man than you." He reached out as if to shake, then pulled Steve in close to him. "Thanks, pal."

"For what?"

"Come on, man. You know." Howard drew back, still clasping him. "Now, we got a party to start. Be there or be square."

Steve smiled. "Square it is. Congratulations, friend."

They shook hands and parted.

~~~

Next chapter: 20. Anchor
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